


A Night Off

by F-117 Nighthawk (F117_Nighthawk)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Diplomacy, Fluff, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Sensitive Carth Onasi, Gray Jedi, LITERALLY, M/M, Minor Angst, Oops, Party, Party Crashing, Revan has to be convinced to take a break and then everything goes to shit, it also wasn't meant to be this long, like minorly sensitive but enough for a, post KOTOR II, this was entirely an excuse for me to practice my bo staff form, with a side of...aggressive negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 18:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19470100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F117_Nighthawk/pseuds/F-117%20Nighthawk
Summary: Newly re-appointed Supreme Commander Revan is, as usual, incapable of taking a break without it turning into a mission. Apparently that's just his luck.Carth wishes his husband would take a Forcedamn break.





	A Night Off

**Author's Note:**

> Revelin=Revan. At this point in time he's got a majority of his memories back, not to mention his surviving qpp (Jay, aka The Exile), is acting Grandmaster of the Jedi Order purely because Jolee and Jay don't want to, and is desperately trying to prepare the Republic against a certain set of Force-blank extra-galactic aliens. Because fuck canon. 
> 
> also in case it isn't obvious Mical=Knight Reid, and Jay=Exile=General Brelle

“Rev,” Carth called. The other was glued to his desk, reports from the Outer Rim scouts scattered around him on a myriad of datapads and flickering on a holoscreen. He was deep in strategizing, trying to figure out where the alien ships that had been poking at the Republic’s borders were coming from or how best to draw them out. He was in his usual armor (Carth couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen him in anything but), helmet resting in the mass of datapads. “Rev, come on.”

He made a noncommittal noise and didn’t turn from the work. Carth sighed and walked up behind him. Gently he placed his hands on the other’s shoulders, circling his thumbs in the knots of muscle on the arch of his back. Revelin finally seemed to realize he was there, blinking and tilting his head back to look up at him. “Hey.”

“There you are,” Carth smiled. He pressed a kiss to his forehead and enjoyed the dopey smile that spread across Revelin’s face of its own accord.

“Why are you wearing your mess uniform?”

“We’re supposed to be going to the party the Movian delegation is hosting, remember? The one to celebrate the treaty they signed to end their civil war after you and Mical convinced them the reason they were fighting was stupid and probably rouge-Dark-Jedi-inlfuenced?”

“Oh, right.”

He glanced back at the mass of datapads and Carth glared at him. “No.”

“I--But Canderous just sent me the latest from his scouts, and Bastilla sent hers, along with a damn hilarious rant about Admiral Burwav that you should remind me to read you at some point, and we  _ know _ they have to be coming from the Unknown Regions but there’s got to be some way they’re getting into the Outer Rim and I need to--”

“You need a  _ break, _ Revelin.”

“B--”

“No, no buts. I’m pretty damn sure the last time you took a break was before you went off and found the first of the Vong ships. Which was, by the way, three years ago.” 

Revelin glared up at him. “Can we not have this argument again?”

Carth bit back something between a sigh and a growl. “I’m just trying to fulfill the promise I made you back when this round of crazy started.”

“What?”

“When you agreed to be Supreme Commander again, you asked me to make sure you didn’t end up down the same path you went down during the Mandalorian Wars. That’s what I’m trying to do here. I’m trying to remind you that yeah, you're  _ Revan, _ but you’re also  _ Revelin. _ You’re  _ human, _ despite the myth that’s built up around you by everyone else. You don’t have to always be striving to be the invincible, fearless, brilliant tactician-battlemaster Jedi Master that people seem to think you are.” Carth reached out and traced light fingers along the scar that graced Revelin’s left temple, following it as it disappeared under discolored hair. Softer than the force he’d had before, he continued: “That almost killed you last time. So just…. take a break. Three hours where you don’t have to think about strategy or keep up the persona. Do something else.”

Revelin turned slightly in his chair, staring into Carth’s eyes with the intimidating,  _ penetrating _ glare he had come to associate with Revan. Carth stood his ground against it and tried to convey everything he was feeling, the concern and love and guilt because he had contributed to this at some point, tried to shove it all at him and hope if his words had failed the Force would do it for him.

Something must have worked because Revelin’s gaze softened. “What “something else” would you suggest?”

“Go to a party, as Revelin, with your handsome husband and let him teach you how to dance?”

Revelin snorted.  _ “You _ teach me how to dance?”

“Hey, I’m not bad! Morgana used to love dancing, and whenever I was home I’d take her out. Telos had an amazing old-fashioned dance hall, with huge high ceilings and just enough space for spins and the occasional surprise dip.”

“Alright, alright! I believe that  _ seven years ago _ you were good. Now let me up, if I’m taking a break I’m changing into something less noticeable.”

* * *

Carth glanced over at Revelin as they stepped out of the hovercar. They’d flown over with the top down, which ended up with Revelin’s hair even more of a mess than its usual mass of tangled helmet-hair. Carth reached over and tried to smooth it out.

“That might be pointless.”

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, just  _ presentable.” _

Revelin reached up and batted his hands away before he leaned forward slightly and shook his head, letting gravity do the work for him. Once the front had completely fallen in his face he reached a hand under it, flipped his head back up and smoothed stray strands out of his face. “Better?” he grinned.

The sight of Revelin’s wind-whipped, grinning face, perfectly framed by bronze and the streak of white that originated from his scar, was too much and Carth was practically forced to lean in and kiss him. “Much.” He grabbed his hand and tugged him in the direction of the hall the party was being hosted at. “You sure you’re not cold?”

Revelin raised an eyebrow and glanced between his unassuming grey Jedi robes and black cloak and Carth’s red and grey mess dress. “I’m probably warmer than you; unlike your mess dress, Jedi robes are made for all weather.”

“Alright, just checking.”

Despite his words (or perhaps because of them), Revelin twisted an arm around Carth’s waist. Carth put his own around his husband’s shoulders, giving him a light squeeze as they reached the door.

“Ah, Admiral Onasi,” one of the doorkeeps said. Xer lekku twitched in happiness as xey spotted them, a toothy smile on xer face. Revelin glanced over xer basic Movian armor and focused on the glowing electrostaff in xer hand.

Next to xem stood a shorter Zabrak in Ranian armor, holding another electrostaff. “Her Majesty will be pleased you have come.”

Carth bowed slightly. “I could not keep her or her counterpart waiting.”

“I regret that I must ask you this, but do you know if Revan is far behind you? Their Majesties wish to talk with him again.” The Twi’lek continued with a suggestive eyebrow, “Apparently he made quite an  _ impression _ .” 

Carth choked on air at the implication, part of his brain wondering just  _ how _ Revelin had managed to make an  _ impression _ if he was in Revan mode and full armor. (And the rest of it admitted that Revelin in full on  _ Revan mode _ tended to alternate between terrifying and making an  _ impression _ even to him.) “Ah, well--”

“Unfortunately, some important business came up that Revan could not be pulled away from. He sends his regrets to Their Majesties, but it is unlikely he will be able to come on-planet again before the  _ Redeemer _ leaves.”

The doorkeeps glanced over at him. “And who are you?”

“Revelin Massi, Jedi Knight,” he bowed. 

“He’s my tagalong,” Carth added.

The Twi’lek nodded knowingly. “Ah, another Jedi. Her Majesty will be pleased to be able to meet you. Your friend Knight Reid is already inside.”

The Zabrak quickly waved a weapons scanner over them both and then moved to open the door. “Would you like me to take your cloak, Knight Massi?”

“Ah, no, thank you. I grew up on Coruscant, and despite the fact that I’ve spent much of my life on ships Movrandin is still rather cold to me.”

The doorkeep nodded in acknowledgement and gestured them inside. “Please bring Revan’s regrets to Her Majesty, and do have fun!”

“I thought you weren’t cold,” Carth muttered as they walked down the short hallway.

“I’m not. The cloak’s just an ah…. convinient disguise.”

Carth paused and studied Revelin’s face. “Is there something I should know?”

“Let’s just say I hope I don’t need it.”

* * *

They ran into Mical rather quickly, who required several bouts of Carth talking very loudly over him before he caught onto the fact that  _ Revan _ was not on-planet. Once they’d managed to establish that fact, though, he quickly became their guide through the party. He “introduced” Revelin to diplomats from both the Movian and Ranian factions before he got caught up in a friendly argument with one of the Movian’s lesser diplomats and Carth took the opportunity to drag Revelin away. 

“I feel kinda bad leaving him over there by himself,” Carth muttered as they made their way past a buffet of chocolates. 

Revelin grabbed a handful and popped one in his mouth. “Mm, these are good. And hey, don’t worry about Mical, he’s a better diplomat than me. Even the few times he’s dropped the wrong name in conversation he managed to smooth it over better than I probably could.”

“Hm, I guess. Hey, give me one of those?”

Revelin obligingly placed one in Carth’s hand. “Honestly, the slip-ups will probably help in the long run.”

“Say again?”

“When he ah, mentioned someone that isn’t here as if he was here. It might help keep the person that  _ is _ here’s cover intact.”

Carth paused with the chocolate halfway into his mouth. “Does…. that mean you know you’re going to need your cloak at some point?”

“Well, the reason certainly hasn’t gotten weaker in the two hours we’ve been here. But come on, there’s nothing we can do for that until it happens, and I seem to remember you promising to teach me how to dance.”

* * *

“This is not how I envisioned this,” Carth grumbled as Revelin led then through a set of simple steps in time with the light music around them.

“I  _ was _ trained as a Sentinel, Carth, kinda goes with the job description.”

“Nowhere in “Jedi diplomat who uses powers other than the Force to keep the peace” is listed “show up your husband with your dancing skills.””

Revelin laughed. “I said I believed you, and you’re not  _ actually _ bad. Just out of practice.”

“And when the hell did  _ you _ have time to practice in the past what, eleven years?”

“Hey, I had to go to plenty of diplomatic events during the Mandalorian Wars. Plus, Jay made me practice with her before she took off for Bespin.”

“And I didn’t get to come?”

“You and Atton were busy trying to get Canderous to not kill Admiral Burwav.”

Carth still pouted at him, but acknowledged that was as good a reason as any. Admira Burwav had the unfortunate habit of pissing off anyone around him who wasn’t born and bred Republic Navy, which certainly included the new Mand’alore and, occasionally, Revan himself. 

Revelin hummed and leaned against Carth more, enjoying the warm glow of the Force radiating off him. It brightened as Carth slipped his arms around his back. “Love you, Rev,” he murmured into his hair. 

“Love you too.”

They swayed in time with the music for a bit, just enjoying a few minutes without duty or war nipping at their heels. Revelin closed his eyes, reaching out the faintest tendrils of his Force presence and wrapping them around Carth, extending the hug as much as he could. He could sense the amusement and affection streaming off Carth and through their Force Bond as he inexpertly did the same.

The warmth chased away the chill that had been around him since they’d landed, but it still hovered just in his peripheral, growing colder as the party wore on. It wanted something, would stop at nothing to get it, but whatever it was was currently impossible. 

Something jolted through the Force nearby and the cold grew darker. Another bright presence flared in surprise and Revelin opened his eyes to find Mical approaching them. He pulled back from Carth and led him over to the edge of the dance floor, meeting Mical there.

“Did you--?” Mical started, breathless.

“Yes.”

“What is it? I thought they’d sorted out their differences.” 

“Someone unhappy with the results of the treaty I’d expect. I’m beginning to think it’s someone  _ very _ specific who wasn’t at the signing.”

“Jartri. The missing Movian advisor, who neither side will admit to hiding.”

“Precisely.”

Mical considered this. “I met him a few times though, and he didn’t feel like a Sensitive.”

“Whoa, wait, what?” Carth interrupted.

“When I said the Movian were being influenced by a rogue Jedi I wasn’t kidding,” Revelin told him, “It wasn’t my  _ original _ intention to draw them out when I agreed to come down here, I promise, but the minute we got here I sensed…. well, whoever it is creating a fairly strong icy wind in my head. Given what we just sensed, I’m betting they’ve pieced together that no one’s  _ actually  _ seen Revan all night.”

Carth sighed. “And, assuming this  _ is _ a trained or at least capable rogue Jedi, they’re either looking for y--for Revan, or are willing to take the opportunity of him not being here to make it seem like one of the governments isn’t happy and undo all your hard work.”

Revelin nodded. “And, Mical, do  _ I _ feel like a Sensitive right now? Least of all one as powerful as  _ me? _ Force stealth is a powerful thing, don’t forget that.”

Mical reached out and studied him for a moment, then bowed his head. “I apologize for not considering that, Master. You indeed barely feel as powerful as Admiral Onasi, and if I did not know it was you I would never guess. I believe I agree with your hypothesis, now.”

“Alright. Plan of action: take Carth and I to the Movian Queen, and the Ranian one if possible. We’re going to need to tell them to up their security asap. Then, see if you can find a spot outside that covers as many exits as possible. Tell me if you sense, in  _ any _ respect, whoever’s creating that influence.”

* * *

“Ah, Knight Reid, Admiral Onasi! So good to see you. I’d heard you were about and was wondering when we would be graced with your presence.”

“Indeed, and who have you brought with you? Another Jedi, if I’m not mistaken?”

The three bowed to the two Queens. “This is Knight Revelin Massi, Your Majesties,” Carth said, “One of our finest.”

Revelin glared at him for the epithet. “Carth speaks far too highly of me. I merely do my duty.”

“And you’re damn good at it.”

“I was not aware there was another Jedi in-system,” Queen Oeran mused. Her head tilted as she considered him, the diadem inscribed with the Ranian symbol threatening to fall off her horns. 

Queen Aup’pasa squinted at him, lekku twisting. “Indeed. Did you take part in any negotiations with the rest of the Jedi?”

Revelin blinked at them for a moment, not having predicted fielding that question in this conversation. “Ah, in a way. I work from the shadows most of the time, so it does not surprise me that you did not meet me during negotiations.”

“So you’re a spy.”

“I’m a Shadow. It’s my job to learn all I can and, if necessary, neutralize any potential threats. Which brings me to why I am down here tonight: we have a suspicion that the rogue Jedi Revan theorized was influencing you is still around, and quite possibly planning to attack.”

Both queens’ eyes widened in alarm. “Are you certain?” Aup’pasa whispered, lekku twisting in alarm. 

“Pretty certain, yes.” Revelin had not actually been certain until he stated that, but the back of his neck was prickling a faint warning from the Force. “In fact, q--”

“Is that why we have not seen Revan himself?” Oeran interrupted, leaning in towards him conspiratorially, “I’ve heard rumors that he did not come, and yet I’ve heard rumors that he is here.”

“Revan’s here,” Revelin said before either queen could start talking. He felt more than saw Carth and Mical’s eyes widen at his words and sent them both a reassurance through the Force. “He’s here and waiting, but I’m  _ really hoping _ that he won’t have to reveal himself because it took a whole damn lot to convince him to take a break and come down here. I recommend you both subtly increase sec--”

The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end, an all too familiar warning. He felt the jolts of surprise and recognition from both Mical and Carth as he grabbed the nearest people and yelled “GET  _ DOWN!” _

* * *

Carth coughed and wiped dust out of his eyes as the ringing in his ears quieted. Mical was on his right, hovering anxiously over the queens. He could feel tendrils of Force power flowing from him, healing whatever wounds they had garnered in the…. well, he guessed it was an explosion. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up on the floor either. Everything after his danger sense had blown up and Revelin had shouted was a blur of noise and light and-- _ Revelin. _

“Mical, where’s Rev?”

“He’s right--uh.” Mical interrupted himself when he turned and discovered the spot he was pointing was devoid of the Jedi in question. The Knight frowned and glanced around. “I--I can’t sense him? But that doesn’t make any sense unless he’s--oh.”

Carth glanced behind him where Mical was gesturing and discovered the probable reason Revelin had disappeared: the huge window on the east wall had been completely shattered, destroying several tables near it and sending shards of glass all over the hall. A figure in dark colors stood in the wreckage, only vaguely recognizable as the missing Movian advisor. Around him stood several others in similar clothing, crackling electrostaffs in their hands. 

“I guess he went to put his cloak to good use.”

An insistent poking at his mind made itself known, a spike of concern driven by an icy tendril of frustration and anger.  _ Get them out, _ it whispered once it had reassured itself he was okay, then curled back into itself, disappearing behind its owner’s Force stealth.

“Mical. We need to get people out of here,” he whispered as the missing advisor started yelling. He didn’t bother listening for more than the jist, confident that the person the advisor seemed to be yelling about would be able to deal with it.

“There’s people at the exits, I don’t think we’re gonna be able to.”

“I don’t suppose you managed to smuggle your lightsaber in?”

Mical looked downright offended. “No!”

“Just a thought. Okay, so we need one hell of a distraction, which if I’m correct is coming in three….”

* * *

He stood in the shadows, dark cloak pulled over his face as best he could. The dark, barely penetrated by the flickering emergency lights, helped to hide his presence from the people stalking into the room via the broken window. Even with his Force presence curled tightly around himself, he could tell the first one was a Sensitive, and a trained Jedi at that. There was a certain way he held his shoulders, too prim and proper to originate from anywhere but Coruscant, and the way he walked like he was used to a lightsaber bouncing at his hip. He extended the faintest tendril of his presence out and got the confirmation he needed: this was Jartri, the rogue Jedi he’d sensed when they landed. 

There was stirring where he’d left Carth and Mical; he quickly sent the tendril over to make sure they were okay. Mical waved it off almost without noticing it, while Carth let it in, let him check he was okay himself.  _ Get them out, _ he told Carth, confident that he and Mical would be able to help everyone while he dealt with the main event.

Speaking of which…

_ “Revan!” _ the rogue Jedi roared, “I know you’re in here! Show yourself!”

Revan didn’t move. The kath hound deserved to stew in his own hatred for a minute, be embarrassed yelling at nothing for a while. He’d been  _ enjoying _ the party, and then the idiot had gone and blown it up. 

_ “Revan! _ Come on, you  _ coward.” _

Revan  _ knew _ he was being baited,  _ knew _ he was playing directly into what the idiot wanted, but  _ nobody  _ did that. He stepped out of the shadows and growled “Who’s more of the coward, he who waits a minute for the ringing in his ears to dissipate or he who blows up an entire kriffing party to get at one person?”

Two figures on the floor caught his attention as Jartri turned towards him. The Twi’lek was semi-conscious and having trouble breathing, the Zabrak standing over her frantic with worry. He knelt by them with a finger to his lips and reached out to the Twi’lek. 

“What, defending your precious Commander’s honor?” Jartri sneered.

“You could say that,” Revan called over his shoulder. He found the broken ribs that were giving the Twi’lek such trouble and closed his eyes for a moment. He focused on the worry and love streaming from the Zabrak, using it to focus his own emotions to the fine point he needed. Warmth flowed through his hand and the Twi’lek took a deep breath. “Get her to Knight Reid,” he whispered to the Zabrak, “tell him Revan sent you.” The Zabrak nodded her thanks and moved as quick as she could.

Revan stood and stared at the rogue Jedi. “Let me ask you this, Jartri: why? What do you think you can accomplish here? Voiding the treaty? Convince Her Majesty that you were right? What good does attacking the entire party do for you?”

“I don’t need to concern myself with you, a measly barely-sensitive,” he sneered again, “Your little healing trick won’t get you anywhere with me. Take your prattling words to someone who cares and bring me Revan.”

“I’m not leaving until you answer my question.”

“Fine. Then you shall join your Commander in hell.”

Revan easily caught the jolt of lightning with one hand. “Your lightning is weak,” he mused as he gathered the Force energy into him, feeling it, tasting the emotions that powered it. Anger, and more than a little hatred, but it was still  _ weak. _

The rogue Jedi gaped at him. “How— _ How?” _

He let the lightning, powered by his growing frustration and ever-simmering anger, crackle in his voice and, indulging his flair for the dramatic for a moment, let his presence unfurl outwards in all its strength with a powerful Force push. “Force stealth is a powerful thing, and you’re not  _ nearly _ as good at it as you think you are.”

Jartri picked himself up from the floor. “Revan,” he breathed. It was a terrified, barely there thing.

“Indeed. Now, are you going to come quietly, or do I need to show you what  _ true _ lightning feels like?”

The world felt frozen for one long moment, and Revan was almost certain the other would surrender until he felt the sense of determination solidify around him. Revan sighed. “Lightning it is then.”

The bolt of purple-white zapped its way through the three mooks that jumped in front of the other and hit Jartri square in the chest. He slammed into the ground, writhing in pain despite the power the bolt had lost in the other three contact points. Undaunted by their leaders cries, the several remaining guards raised their electrostaffs. Revan stalked forward, picking up one of the fallen guards’ electrostaffs with a feral grin. 

One came flying at him with a roar; Revan merely sidestepped, grabbed them by the arm, and pulled them into the end of his staff. They collapsed to the ground in a moaning heap. He didn’t manage to block a strike that came flying at him from his left, the hit bouncing off the thin armor plating under his robe. He ended up in an awkward too-small cross stance before he shifted fully to face her and block another strike successfully. He flipped his staff around, blocking a third time and knocking her back a bit in the process. Another kicked his fallen friend out of the way and came in with a low flick aimed for his groin; Revan blocked it before it could hit and turned the momentum around to slam the electrified end of his staff into the woman on his left. She slammed into the floor, unconscious from the shock.

The man now on his right tried the same trick again, which Revan blocked in the same manner before Force pushing him into another advancing enemy. Another opponent advanced on him, slower this time. Xe stabbed at him but he blocked it easily before flipping his staff around to block someone attempting to attack his side. Revan pressed the advantage, whipping his staff forward. Xe blocked it, but weren’t prepared when he shifted and stepped forward, whipping his staff into xer side. He stepped into a cross stance and slammed the staff down on xer head. Xe fell to the ground, out cold. 

Revan blocked a strike coming down on his head and stepped on his opponents foot for good measure. A prickle on his neck had him ducking low under another strike as he spun and slammed his staff under another opponent’s chin. Most of the attack was blocked, but the electrified section crackled against his shoulder. He hissed and stepped forward, forcing Revan to step back and block, still low, before Revan stabbed upwards again. His opponent was prepared for it this time, sending it skittering off his own staff. Revan surged up and put an extra oomph of Force behind his strike as he slammed his staff under his chin, slamming his opponent to the ground.

Revan whirled and blocked another strike from his side, but just missed and the electricity sparked against his side even though the thin armor. The opponent now on his right was halfway through picking himself off the ground when he suddenly found Revan’s staff stabbing towards his stomach. The shock, combined with the hit Revan landed on his head, landed him on the floor without consciousness.

Spotting someone advancing on his left, Revan stepped out and swept the feet out from under the one in front of him. He blocked a strike aimed at his chest, then stopped one just above his head, before he managed to get a hit in. His opponent growled, her teeth grinding from the shock, but she managed to stab at him. Revan barely blocked it, stepping back and shoving it out of his way before he twirled his staff around with a flourish and brought it down on her extended arm. She stumbled backwards, barely holding onto her staff. 

The Force and his ears alerted him to someone behind him, the guard whose feet he’d swept. Twisting around, Revan stabbed outwards with his staff, before he swung it around into his opponent’s head. He ducked, but Revan had already shifted his attention and momentum to blocking a powerful swing from the other guard. He stabbed forwards again, landing a direct hit and sending her flying backwards, twitching. The guard now behind him took the opportunity to strike at him from the side, landing a direct hit on his already shocked side and earning a hiss of pain. 

Drawing on that pain, Revan turned around while blocking another strike. He took a step towards his opponent, twirling his staff in figure eights around him as he advanced. The other’s eyes widened, backpedaling as they tried in vain to get out of his range. With a final swing he slammed his staff into their chest, sending them crashing to the ground. 

He glanced around and spotted one lone guard running towards him. With a roll of his eyes he switched hands on his staff and swung. A little extra Force behind it put the last guard out cold.

“That’s for ruining my damn night off.”

* * *

Silence reigned in the hall as Revan dropped his borrowed staff. Most Force presences had been removed from the hall or were lying knocked cold around him, except for one. He stepped over his fallen opponents and knelt by the one still aware of the world. Jartri flinched away from him, curling into himself with a moan. Revan sighed and reached out a hand, pressing it rather harshly against the burn mark on the other’s chest. He sent what healing energy he could, dulling the pain but not completely soothing it. “I don’t  _ want _ to hurt you, but I can’t let you attack an entire room full of innocent bystanders.”

The other huffed a painful laugh. “None of them are innocent.”

“Perhaps not,” Revan conceded, “but none of them are the person you’re looking for. You can’t involve others in your personal spats. So I’m going to ask you this again: why? What did you hope to achieve?”

The silence was telling.

“You don’t know. You let your anger and hatred blind you and you lashed out at the most likely target you could find, and then when you  _ couldn’t _ find him, you blew up the whole kriffing hall.”

“You wouldn’t know,” Jartri snarled, “You wouldn’t  _ know _ what it’s  _ like--” _

_ “I know damn well what it’s like. _ I’m  _ Revan.  _ If anyone else on this planet knows the dangers of letting fear, anger, and hatred blind you I can assure you  _ It. Is. Me.” _

“Your Republic let my planet be  _ destroyed,” _ he interrupted, “I left the Order because I  _ cannot _ let another planet end up like that.”

“And how does that lead to _ blowing up a party?” _

A beat of silence followed, Jartri glaring into the shadow still covering Revan’s face. 

“You still don’t know. You still let yourself be blinded--”

“I was not  _ blinded, _ I was  _ freed.” _

“Are you free from your  _ hatred?  _ From your  _ fear? _ Or are you just in a new set of chains? Hatred and fear cannot be your main motivations in life; they will leave you empty in the end. Take some advice from someone who’s been through it: find a way to come to peace with it.”

“Peace is a  _ lie. _ There is only passion.”

“And yet, there cannot be passion without peace to guide it.” Revan stood and gazed down at Jartri. “Think about it.”

A swift kick knocked the fallen Jedi out, leaving Revan to muse in silence.

* * *

“All the assailants have been secured by the Movian and Ranian militaries,” Mical said, coming up behind him.

“Good.”

“Master, I do not mean to question, but are you sure they will be able to hold Jartri without a Force-collar?”

“Yes. Jartri has much to think about. He won’t be a threat.”

Mical nodded, but didn’t move. Revan reached a tendril of his presence out to him, catching a hidden sense of curiosity. “Do you have another question?”

Mical fidgeted with the hem of his robe. “Nothing to do with the mission. More of an ah, idle curiosity.”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you truly have Shadow training? Or is that just a convenient excuse when you need to not let people know who you are?”

Revan finally turned around and gave him an amused eyebrow. “How do you think I found the Star Forge?”

“....ah.”

His commlink beeped before either could say anything more and Revan pulled it off his belt. “Revan.”

“Commander, this is the  _ Redeemer. _ There’s a transmission from the  _ Eidolon. _ General Brelle thinks her fleet has run across a potential avenue of approach. She’s on her way to Bakura now.”

“Acknowledged. Tell General Shan and the  _ Valiant _ to meet us there, and get the fleet ready for departure. We’re leaving as soon as I finish up here.”

* * *

Revelin sat heavily on the bed, leaning backwards until his shoulders hit the other side. He lay there for a long moment before various bruises and sore spots from his duel in the party hall made themselves known via his hidden pieces of armor digging into them. With a long-suffering grunt he threw pieces of clothing and armor in the general direction of the laundry until he was down to his underwear and shirt. 

He must’ve fallen asleep, or perhaps slipped into a minor healing trance, because the next thing he was conscious of was Carth subtly trying to move him fully onto his own side of the bed. He blinked for a moment before his brain reconnected and he gained enough control to shift so Carth could lie down. A streak of blood on Carth’s cheek caught Revelin’s eye as he rolled over. Without thinking he reached out and touched it. Affection tinged with worry warmed his hand, easily healing the minor cuts on the other’s face.

Revelin opened eyes he didn’t remember closing to find Carth gazing at him with a similar swirl of love and concern. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. I’m sorry tonight ended up like this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Revelin pursed his lips. “He was Serrocan. He hates the Republic for good reason, and I can’t help but feel that, maybe, if I’d convinced the Old Council--”

“Revelin. You’re doing the “invincible Revan must be infallible” thing again. You can’t blame yourself for that. You did all you could then, and you did all you could now.”

He sighed. “I guess.”

They were silent for a moment, just gazing at each other, before Carth reached up and entwined his fingers with the one still on his cheek. “I’m sorry you didn’t get more of a break.”

“I had fun with what I did, though. We should go dancing again next time we have a chance.”

The smile was mostly hidden behind their hands, but Revelin could tell it was there. “I bet we can make that happen.”

“Good,” Revelin yawned, “but for now, I think I’d settle for sleepy cuddles from one of my favorite people in the universe.”

“Now  _ that _ I can definitely arrange.”


End file.
